#dangsonreview

[dangsonnn]

Review // Jam City - Dream A Garden

Jam City came out with 2012′s Classical Curves and took the post-dubstep electronic club scene by storm (sorry for the adjectives). Unfortunately I wasn’t even close to a part of that scene in 2012 and despite beautifully striking album art it sounded largely like noise to me.

Fast forward three years and I’m ready. Except Jack Latham is already on some new tip, and that apparently includes 90s industrial beats with fuzzed out Wild Nothing vocals laced in amongst a Prince impersonator playing the guitar. That’s cool, gimme more of that. Oh it’s a protest album on the degradation of society in the face of rampant consumerism and governmental control? Thanks then for distorting the lyrics to a point of near inaudibility where I can live in your musical garden without breaking my self-imposed bubble. Ignorance can be bliss and there are worse soundtracks to travel to hell to.

[dangsonnn]

Review // Mark Barrott - Sketches from an Island

Back in 2008, I was faced with a choice. Having decided it was time to collect records (such a rite of passage for any “cool” young man) I knew I had to make my first purchase an important one. In a now-forgotten record store in downtown Winnipeg, I had narrowed it down to two: the official soundtrack to the first season of Flight of the Conchords; or the first and only album from Quiet Village, a duo who had created the greatest and widest-ranging soundtrack to a movie that never existed. I chose the former, not predicting the utter lack of cultural significance that TV show would have on me beyond a year or two later, and regretted that decision for years.

What made Quiet Village’s Silent Movie so great was that everything was both familiar and yet new. Every song was expressive and clear in the image it provided, whether it was a sunset beach, a spaghetti western, or some weird Jamaican rasta party where you feel like the joint is only ever getting passed to you. It was so corny that it transcended corn altogether and became the norm.

Mark Barrott’s Sketches from an Island is the first album since 2008 to really come close to Quiet Village’s one-off. While not as broad in scope, the laid-back hazy island vibes are front and centre and maybe even better distilled than Quiet Village’s ever were. The imagery this album evokes is pretty real- you could call this “spa music” but it’s too exact to ever really zone out to. I don’t want to close my eyes and fall half asleep while someone karate chops my back, I want to actually be on the Ibiza beach nearby Mark’s studio while listening to this.

I’ve always seen music as an augmentation for life’s experiences: something that can heighten or add lasting meaning to an already memorable event. Once in a while however a piece of music can be so bang-on that the experience becomes the augmentation, and the music the main event. This is definitely one of those times.

[dangsonnn]

Review // Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper

The calendar year of 2014 had a lot of ongoing themes throughout, but one unmistakeable one for me was the notion of aging and death. Between movies like Interstellar and Boyhood, and albums like Flying Lotus’ You’re Dead, as well as the ever-impending doom of climate change, it seems as though popular culture is beginning more and more to embrace its own mortality and brief place in time.

That isn’t a new concept to Noah Lennox however; his second album, Young Prayer, was conceived as an ode to his recently passed father. Likewise, a large amount of Animal Collective’s work has embraced and eulogized long-passed loved ones and ideals. Despite this, his new album is probably his most upbeat and accessible he’s done yet. The melodies are simpler and easy to pick up, the reverb has been turned down a notch, and overall the music isn’t all that challenging. Noah is approaching late-stage Beach Boys here, full steam ahead.

That isn’t a bad thing though. One thing that struck me in the run-up to this album release is how old Noah Lennox looks now. It’s a stark reminder that one of my favourite albums of all time, 2007’s Person Pitch, came out eight years ago. As I approach (thankfully slowly) my thirties these kind of landmarks are sometimes brutal but always necessary. Since I can’t imagine him ever putting a bad album (although this is my least favourite unfortunately) having a “Panda Bear Waypoint” as I make my own way through life would be a nice reflective device to have.

[dangsonnn]

Review // Rick Ross - Mastermind

Sometimes I wonder if I’m listening to the same albums some internet “music critics” are. In a day and age where it’s too easy to just look at a numerical rating, actually delving in to a poorly reviewed album (or vice versa, a universally fellated one) can sometimes reveal buried treasure. Am I missing the point? Are they? It’s always a mystery.

Case in point: Mastermind. Rick Ross’ newest long player has been almost universally panned by critics, citing that Rozay has “lost his edge” or that he needs to “go hard on every track, not just two.” In contrast, I’m hearing maybe my favorite release from him ever. At 19 tracks there’s really very little filler on here and the tracks that stay are, in a word, huge. Sanctified is catchier than anything that was on Yeezus (another example where the industry zigs and I zag) and Lil’ Wayne’s tease up until finishing the album off is perfectly done. Even Dope Bitch Skit is hilarious if misplaced.

Ultimately Rick Ross has put out his most fun and best produced release in ages, and all the reviewers must have gotten the wrong copy because they’re missing out. This release kills it and I’m not sure what you'd be looking for otherwise. Also can we talk about that 90s grunge homage album art? I don’t know what possessed the boss to use the Nevermind font or the Loveless fuchsia to paint his cover but I’m in to it.